Chapter 268: Holy war 6
In her millennia of existence, there were few things that could truly rile Elizabeth. Boredom, the capriciousness of the gods, defeat, and above all, submission.
Boredom, in particular, gnawed at her like a relentless hunger.
Like any long-lived race, the need for entertainment was an essential facet of existence. For Elizabeth, the remedy to this ennui lay in her kin—the vampires.
Watching them grow, evolve, adapt, and even witnessing their transformations was a source of fascination that had long kept her boredom at bay.
For countless millennia, this cycle of observation and fascination had provided Elizabeth with a sense of purpose, a respite from the monotony of immortality.
But in the last 500 years, since the establishment of a peace treaty between vampires and humans, a pervasive sense of boredom had settled over her like a suffocating shroud.
With the cessation of conflict, her once dynamic and ever-changing race had grown stagnant, trapped in a state of perpetual stasis.
No longer were there wars to wage, enemies to vanquish, or challenges to overcome. Instead, there was only the dull monotony of peace—an existence devoid of excitement, growth, or change.
It was a reality that grated against Elizabeth's very essence, leaving her restless and unfulfilled.
As she surveyed her kin, their once vibrant energy now dulled by centuries of peace, Elizabeth felt a surge of frustration building within her.
This was not how she had envisioned their immortal existence—a life of endless stagnation, devoid of purpose or meaning.
As a benevolent queen, Elizabeth understood the complexities of her immortal race and refrained from blaming them for their stagnation.
Instead, she exercised patience, though it wore thin as the culmination of her grievances unfolded within the same year.
The gods themselves deigned to visit her domain, a rare occurrence that stirred unease within her.
Coupled with her kin's stagnation and a defeat at the hands of the hero in an unofficial battle, Elizabeth found herself facing an unprecedented demand: to submit to demons, made by her own kind.
It was a betrayal that shook her to her core, challenging the very foundations of her authority and reign.
For the first time in her millennia-long existence, Elizabeth felt the primal urge to revert to the embodiment of the first sin she had long eschewed—wrath.
It was the very essence that had earned her the fear and respect of gods and high races alike, a force to be reckoned with and a reminder of her unparalleled power.
With simmering anger beneath her composed exterior, Elizabeth addressed her subjects in a deceptively calm tone. "Any other suggestions?" she inquired, her voice carrying a weight that brooked no dissent.
Yet, once again, the chamber remained silent, devoid of any who dared to meet her gaze. In the past, before peace settled over their race, defiant eyes would have met her own, but now, submission seemed the norm.
This wasn't the vibrant race of vampires she had once known, the comrades she had considered her kin.
In the face of their collective acquiescence, Elizabeth felt a pang of sorrow and disappointment. Where were the vampires who had stood beside her as equals, who had challenged her and pushed her to be better?
Before she knew it, Elizabeth's body underwent a grotesque transformation, morphing into a form comprised of pure blood and darkness.
The throne hall was engulfed by her very essence, as thousands upon thousands of bright red eyes scanned their surroundings with an unnerving intensity.
Sharp mouths and teeth opened in unison, a chorus of voices echoing through the chamber.
"Once again, I'll ask: what do you think we should do about this war?" the voices demanded, their grotesque tones intensifying the gravity of the situation.
As the eerie voices reverberated around the hall, instilling fear in every vampire family head present, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. Despite her best efforts to elicit a response from her kin, they remained frozen in fear, unable or unwilling to offer a solution.
Truly, the faces before her were a reflection of the stagnation that had befallen their race. Even the beloved Wednesday family and the esteemed Crimson family, whom she held dear, seemed incapable of breaking free from the grip of fear that held them captive.
Not even her loyal shadow knights or Herton, her trusted aide, dared to meet her gaze.
As the weight of her realization settled upon her, Elizabeth felt a pang of despair. It seemed that no matter what decision she made, the outcome would remain unchanged. Their collective fear and complacency had rendered them incapable of effecting any meaningful change.
Should she simply restart anew? The thought lingered in her mind, a tempting prospect in the face of such insurmountable obstacles. But even as the idea took root, Elizabeth knew that it was not a decision to be made lightly. The prospect of starting over was daunting, fraught with uncertainty and unknown challenges.
Yet, as she gazed upon the cowed faces of her kin, Elizabeth couldn't shake the feeling that drastic action was necessary. For if her vampires were to ever reclaim their former glory, they would need a leader who was unafraid to forge a new path forward, no matter the cost.
"As expected, you are all ever too reliant upon me," came Elizabeth's calm voice as she returned to her beautiful form, her disappointment palpable. "None of you can speak up about your opinions. What's the point of me asking, then?"
Silence hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the weight of her words. The vampires before her remained frozen, unable to muster the courage to voice their thoughts.
"You lot lack courage... even that foolish youngling just now was much better than you elder folks," Elizabeth remarked with a small sigh. With a simple snap of her fingers, she invoked a primal reaction within her subjects, causing their blood to respond to her presence, to her authority as their queen.
As the sound of their blood escaping their bodies filled the chamber, the vampires watched in horror, knowing that their queen's actions meant only one thing: their imminent demise.
"Y-your majesty?" Herton couldn't help but speak up amidst the sudden chaos, his body weakening as his essence was drained. Yet, all he received was a look of disappointment from Elizabeth.
"Is this your will, your majesty?" Herton's voice trembled with resignation as he bowed before his queen. Even in the face of death, he remained loyal, willing to sacrifice himself for her cause. For the first sin upon the world.
As Elizabeth prepared to feed upon her loyal subject, a somber acceptance settled over Herton. If he were to die today, at least he would serve as nourishment for his queen, fulfilling his duty to the very end.
As the queen prepared to enact her grim intentions, a sudden interruption halted her in her tracks. A familiar voice echoed through the chamber, breaking the tense silence.
"Your Majesty," came the respectful address, accompanied by the arrival of a woman with striking red hair and eyes reminiscent of Elizabeth's own. Behind her, two other women bowed their heads in deference—an individual with red eyes and blonde hair, and another with black hair and red eyes, dressed in a maid's outfit.
Elizabeth's eyes widened slightly at the sight before her. She recognized this person all too well—one of the very few vampires she had genuinely cared about. When she had heard of their disappearance into the clutches of an unknown demon, she had been devastated.
"Charlotte?" the queen questioned, her actions pausing as a ripple of relief washed over the vampires in the room, feeling their strength slowly returning in the presence of the newcomer.
"Judging from your rash actions... are you not feeling well, Your Majesty?" Charlotte inquired with genuine concern as she approached, flanked by her companions. A crow with a hundred eyes perched on her shoulder.
"You were alive... Charlotte?" Elizabeth's voice held a mixture of disbelief and relief.
"Yes," Charlotte confirmed simply, her expression unreadable.
"How...? I'm sure your connection with me was clearly cut off," Elizabeth pressed, her gaze scanning the woman before her. She delved deep, searching for any sign of deception, but found none. It was indeed Charlotte standing before her, alive against all odds. Yet, the absence of their vampiric connection had left Elizabeth convinced of her demise.
"We can talk about all of that later, Your Majesty. How about we take this somewhere private first? My master is rather impatient at the moment," Charlotte suggested, a note of urgency in her voice.
"Master?" Elizabeth's curiosity piqued as she followed Charlotte's gaze to the crow perched on her shoulder.
In that moment, Elizabeth's senses were overwhelmed by a surge of primal energy emanating from the crow.
She attempted to peer into its essence, but before she could discern its identity her eyes exploded, a searing pain erupted within her, as if her very soul had been scorched.
"Looking without permission is rude, my dear progenitor," came a calm yet commanding voice from the crow.
The power it exuded was palpable, sending shivers down the spines of every vampire present.
In that instant, Elizabeth realized the magnitude of the being before her.
It was not merely a crow, but something far greater—an entity that commanded respect and reverence, akin to that of a god.
And as the weight of its presence bore down upon them, Elizabeth and her subjects could only kneel into submission.
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